


This Will Never End ('cause I want more)

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time that the Sheriff had ever regretted being so open with his son.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Exactly what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Will Never End ('cause I want more)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "If I Had A Heart" by Fever Ray.

The first time the Sheriff came home to find Stiles in his room jacking off with his door open was the first time that the man had ever regretted being so open with his son. 

Stiles had always benefited from being able to talk to his dad without fear of judgment or reproach. John liked it because it made them close. Stiles was all that John had left.

So yes, being open meant that he was informed about his son's life with 100% accuracy, but it also made Stiles think without the inhibitions of normal society with respect to many things while at home. So when the sheriff heard a gasp and, thinking his child was in pain, had rushed upstairs to see his teenage son working up and down his length with one hand and pinching his nipples with the other hand, he really shouldn't have been surprised.

"Hey Dad. Borrowed your lube." The sheriff's eyes were glued to the glistening appendage but looked up to see his son's pink lips making an 'o' of pleasure as his muscles tightened before coming over his hand and stomach. He watched as Stiles visibly sagged with relief and his bent legs slid flat to the bed. "Whew." He huffed out a breath of air before continuing, "I needed that." 

The sheriff's feet finally unglued themselves when he had watched Stiles swipe up a glob of cum and suck the finger into his mouth greedily. He shouldn't watch it. He should tell Stiles to close his door or keep it down next time. 

He doesn't. 

The sheriff goes into his room and sits on his bed, realizing with a shock that he's at half-mast already. He resolves to get rid of it quickly before he remembers that his lube is, in fact, in Stiles' room. 

John Stilinski doesn't sleep well that night.

 

***

 

Two weeks later, John notices that a box is out of place in his closet. The box had belonged to Claudia before her passing and John knew the exactly what was in that box. As a man of the law, he had been forced to work at all hours of the night, leaving a young, vivacious wife at home alone. He had been understanding and even supportive when she had expressed interest in getting a couple… intimate implements to keep her company on those long nights. 

John's late wife had been a vixen and he would do anything to keep her happy, including buying her the large, sturdy box to keep her growing collection of treasures a secret from curious small children with impossible-to-pronounce names. 

The navy blue box now sat on top of the other boxes in the sheriff's closet as opposed to its usual home at the far bottom corner under an old flat sheet. He opened the box and turned red when he only saw the smaller, more tame pieces of Claudia's collection left - the ones she had started with before realizing how much of a kinky size queen she really was. 

There was only one explanation for the missing pieces - his wayward child must have found them. John shuddered to think of Stiles using the toys and shook his head to clear it before snapping the box closed. He resolved to not think about it or bring it up at all with his son. 

 

***

 

"Dad, do we have any AAA batteries? I just need one." Stiles bounded into the kitchen with a smile as he caught sight of his dad. John thought for a moment before going to the 'junk drawer' and pulling out a package with a lone AAA battery left out of the original four. 

"You're in luck," he said as he handed over the battery and Stiles struggled to snap it into place in the small black remote. 

"Here, you do it. I can't get it in right." He handed the remote and battery over and John snapped it in place before popping the back panel onto the remote. "Does it work?" Stiles asked. 

John shrugged before pushing the on/off button once. He expected to hear a stereo system or something. "Is it working?"

Stiles grinned excitedly, "Turn it up. Tell me if you can hear it."

The sheriff pressed the up button on the remote and listened for something. He watched as Stiles bent forwards, leaning his elbows on the counter top as he bit his lip. "I don't hear anything," he said as he held his thumb on the up arrow. He pushed the right directional arrow to see if it made a difference. Stiles closed his eyes and squeezed them shut. John could swear that he heard a quiet rhythmic buzzing then. He eyed his son, whose eyes were rolling into the back of his head as his legs bounced like he might fall over. 

"Stiles! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

His son let out a moan that became choked off and began canting his hips as if he…

"Oh my god! Dad! It's so good!"

It clicked then what was happening and John dropped the remote to the floor. The setting changed and both men could hear the angry, constant buzz of the remote vibrator egg that Stiles had lodged up his ass. He moaned and cried out, "Daddy!" before coming violently in his pants, untouched. He started whimpering at the overstimulation before John scrambled to grab the remote and jab the on/off button.

The silence aside from Stiles' labored breathing was deafening. John awkwardly put down the remote before walking out of the kitchen and grabbing his coat. "I'll see you later," he called as he walked out the door to get to work early. 

 

***

 

Coming home three days later to find his son on his knees blowing his best friend was…

… he couldn't even explain how he felt. 

He walked through the door and hear the immediate whispered shout of, "Fuck! Your dad's home!" before a resounding slapping noise. John immediately strode into the living room to see Scott McCall meeting his gaze with terrified eyes over the back of the sofa and Stiles enthusiastically gagging himself on Scott's cock.

He met his father's eyes before slurping up the length and coming off with an obscene pop of suction. "Hey dad!" He smiled as he worked Scott's cock with his hand. "How was work?" He sucked his friend down again as Scott's eyes rolled into the back of his head in pleasure. The sheriff advanced on the pair and Scott's flight instinct kicked back in as he tried to push Stiles off his dick. Stiles slapped his hands away again and went all the way down to nuzzle his nose in his best friend's pubic hair and suck, eyes never leaving his father's. Scott came with a grunt and then remembered the sheriff's presence and grabbed a throw pillow to shield his junk from the sheriff's view, as if it hadn't just been viewed a minute before when Stiles greeted his dad. 

Stiles pulled off and licked his friend clean before swallowing it all down and licking his lips. He tucked Scott back into his underwear and jeans and Scott sunk into his seat. "Maybe I should go," he turned cautiously to the sheriff, who still didn't have any particular expression on his face as he watched his son.

"I think that might be best."

Stiles frowned at his dad as his friend grabbed his backpack and bolted from the room faster than he ever had before. 

"Are you two having sex?"

Stiles frowned at his dad, "Of course not. I just convince him to let me blow him from time to time. I like having big things to suck on, he likes getting off. It works." He licked his lips, finally noticing the drip of cum that had escaped the corner of his mouth and licked it up with his tongue. "Scott's straighter than a ruler. I'm actually surprised that he let me do it on the couch this time."

"This isn't your first…?"

Stiles scoffed, "Nope. Scott was the first one I tried it on - you know, to see if I liked it. It was like a month or two ago. I blew Danny after that and, as it turns out, Jackson is bisexual like me too but he's sort of in the closet about that still," he smiled at that last part. 

The sheriff wasn't quite sure what to say to that so he settled on shaking his head and removing his gun belt. He needed a stiff drink. 

 

***

 

The call from Beacon Hills High School came when the sheriff had just gotten in after his lunch break. The principal asked that he come down to the school to talk about Stiles' inappropriate conduct in the hallway. John sighed and heaved himself out of his chair. 

"Parrish, I'll be back in a while. I was called down to the school," he rolled his eyes as he passed the deputy's desk. 

"No one is hurt, right?"

The sheriff shook his head, "No, I'm thinking this one is all Stiles."

Enough said. 

When John finally showed up, Stiles was sitting outside of the office waiting. "What did you do?"

His son shot upright at his tone and ducked his head, "Dad! Hey, imagine that! I was just thinking about how much I value living and not being killed from my stupidity and-"

"Stiles!" he cut off the rambling harshly. 

"Jackson told me and Scott to suck his dick so I got on my knees and sort of started undoing his pants-"

"God damn it, Świętomierz Stilinski!" John turned away from his son and paced the width of the hallway, pulling at his hair in frustration. "What am I going to do with you?" He turned a critical eye on Stiles. "You know that his parents could sue you for sexual assault, right? You do realize how stupid that was, correct?"

"Yes Dad."

"And that you could justifiably get suspended for this at minimum."

"Yes Dad."

John sighed when the principal waved them into his office, pushing his son into one of the two chairs before the desk with a firm hand just because he knew it would make Stiles squirm more. 

At the end of the hour-long meeting with Jackson, his parents and the principal, Stiles was suspended for the next week and had detention for another two weeks after school when he resumed classes. John escorted his wayward son home and immediately confiscated his keys. 

"I'm sorry! I don't think I can say this enough to you. I just couldn't let him call me a fag and tell me to suck his dick without wiping that smug look off his face in return." Stiles stood leaning against the wall while twiddling his fingers together. He looked up at John and got an annoyed look on his face, "I did it because I wanted to stand up for myself. You always told me to do that but now that I have, I'm suddenly wrong. Suddenly I'm a bad child that needs to be spanked." 

John could tell the second that Stiles regretted his words. "That can be arranged, if that's how you would prefer to be punished."

"You wouldn't."

The sheriff raised an eyebrow before Stiles attempted to fake left and duck right, only ending with his father clapping a cuff on one hand then the other behind Stiles' back. "They don't keep re-electing me to Sheriff for nothing, son." He pulled his son over to the couch and over his knee. Stiles didn't resist as much as hesitate, unsure of this next part. John lowered Stiles' jeans followed by his black cotton boxers to reveal smooth, pale skin dotted with a few dark freckles, like the ones along his face.

John let his right hand come down without preamble, his thumb contacting something solid along the crack of Stiles' ass. John's curiosity won out when he spread the pale cheeks with both hands to reveal the base of a plug peeking out of Stiles' winking hole. "Do you wear this every day?"

Stiles whimpered when John pressed a firm thumb against the red marbled blown glass - a gift he had bought for Claudia on a whim. He had to admit that something primal inside of him stirred at seeing his gift in use. 

"Answer me, Stiles," he rubbed his thumb around the slicked rim of his son's hole, teasing the skin, but not penetrating it yet. 

"No, Daddy!" It seemed to take a lot out of him to say those two words as he continued to whine in the back of his throat. 

"Why were you wearing this large of a plug to school today?"

Stiles yelped at the swat against his left cheek before squeezing out, "I need to keep my ass open so that I can fist it, Daddy. I want it so badly."

John gave a short laugh at the similarities between Claudia and Stiles. "I'm going to spank you fifteen more times tonight and any other night that you are suspended, as I see fit. You will count them. If you lose track, I will start over at one. Got it?"

"Yes," he said as he nodded his head. 

True to form, Stiles rose to the challenge and didn't miss a number.

 

***

 

John really should have learned the first time, but he couldn't help standing in the doorway of the bathroom when he heard a whine and whimper that sounded like Stiles was in pain. He saw exactly, well maybe not EXACTLY, what he should've expected; Stiles had two of Claudia's thinner toys suction cupped to the wooden lid of the toilet seat and was riding both simultaneously with impressive vigor. He whimpered again when he impaled himself too quickly on the dildos and John came forward to stop his son before he did irreparable damage. 

"Stiles," he put a hand on his son's back and stilled the boy. "You're going to tear something like that and I'll have to drive you to the hospital."

"I can't get it!" He cried, frustrated. "I can't get the right angle and I need it!" He sank down all the way onto the toys with a shudder and let tears roll down his face. "Please Daddy? Help?"

John could feel himself split between being disgusted and running out of the bathroom only to drive Stiles to the ER later for rectal stitches and pulling down his own pants so that his son could reach his completion safely on his father's cock. 

He was going to hell for this. 

Stiles tugged him toward the lip of the tub and John sat down. His son's hands pulled John's sweatpants and boxer briefs down far enough to release his oversized erection and dismounted the two wavering dildos on the toilet seat to seat himself on John's lap. When he slid home into his son's lube-slicked hole, John leaned his head against the back of Stiles' neck as he held Stiles' hips in place for a moment. Once released, Stiles began to bounce on his father's lap but cried out when John added small upward thrusts and nailed the boy's prostate every time. John couldn't ignore the cry of 'Daddy!' when Stiles came and gave in to instinct when he stood up, bending Stiles over the vanity to fuck him properly. Stiles moaned and shouted a litany of 'Yes Daddy!' as he was pounded from behind against the sink. 

Then out of nowhere came, "You like getting your ass fucked by Daddy?" John remembered then how hot it had been fucking his wife like this, her yelling Daddy and all. This wasn't his wife though, this was his son. His son who was gripping him tighter than should be possible after the girth of the two dildos still swaying on the lid of the toilet.

"Yes Daddy! Harder!" Stiles' voice was raw and cracked as he pleaded. John slapped a hand against Stiles' ass between thrusts like Claudia used to like. Stiles moaned like a trained whore and begged for more as he watched his father in the mirror. "Spank me Daddy! Own my ass!" 

Clearly his son was just as kinky as his mother had been. He could remember the plugs holding in John's cum, the nipple clamps under her bra, the vibrator for when they were in the grocery store, or even when she would forgo panties and lift up her skirt to have a quickie in a semi public place. Claudia was a minx and Stiles was just as hot for it. 

He reached around and stroked his son from semi-hard to his second completion before emptying his load in Stiles's tight ass. He stayed there for a moment before withdrawing and spreading his son's ass cheeks to watch the best part. Stiles' hole winked at him as his cum dripped from the puffy, red, abused hole. 

"Have you fisted yourself yet?"

He met Stiles' eyes in the mirror, "I couldn't get the angle right. It made my wrist sore before I could get it in properly." He bit his lip, still drunk on endorphins from his orgasms as he panted against the cool counter top. "Will you fist me, Daddy? Split me open on your thick fingers and wrist? Shove your hand in far enough that only your elbow is showing?"

John was tempted as he watched his cum drip out of Stiles' ass. He used his thumb to gather up the overflow and push it back in. "No, baby." John looked at his son in the mirror and sighed, "What are we doing, Stiles? Why are you testing me?"

His son ducked his head as John watched his reflection intently. "It's not a game to me. This is really very real to me. There's clearly something wrong with me 'cause having serious feelings about a parent is never a good sign."

"Is this my fault?"

Stiles jerked under his father's continued touch, "My feelings are my own, Dad. No one is at fault. They're not a mistake. Love can't be a mistake. I love you, more than any child should love their parent, but I accept it, Dad." He lifted his head to see his father's understanding expression in the mirror. 

John rubbed one of his large hands over Stiles' back soothingly with a nod. "You need a shower."

Stiles shot out a hand before his father could turn away and caught the wrist of his left arm. "Stay? Please?"

John nodded and stepped back, making no move to leave or pull up his pants. He watched as Stiles pulled the two dildos off of the toilet seat and cleaned them with an artfully hidden cleaner under the sink. He set them out to dry on a towel, not bothering to hide them from view, before turning on the shower and climbing in, not shutting the curtain completely.

John sat on the edge of the tub, watching Stiles shave the stubble off his jaw line before deciding to get in there with Stiles. He was already in too deep. 

Stiles made room for his dad under the spray and John smiled at his son, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his temple before grabbing the bar of soap to clean up his boy.

John promised himself that he wouldn't give in again after this night was over. 

 

***

 

"Are you a good boy for me, Stiles?" Derek asked in his ear as he thrusted against his prostate mercilessly. "Tell Daddy how much you need it."

"I'm a good boy, Daddy. I swear! Oh god, I need your cock, Daddy."

"How much, baby?"

"Every day! I need it!" Stiles' arms threatened to buckle as Derek shook the bed with his thrusts. "Fuck, Daddy! Harder!" Stiles' childhood bed creaked in rhythmic protest. 

Derek's hips stuttered to a halt. "Your dad's cruiser is coming. I should go."

"No, why?" Stiles whined as Derek started to pull out.

"I think I should go before your dad shoots me."

Stiles pushed his face off of the pillow to get a better look at Derek. "You don't have to make excuses for performance anxiety. It's fine. I'll just get my dildo and-" Derek growled, never one to back down from a challenge. 

He pushed Stiles facedown into the pillows of his bed and was thrusting painfully hard into Stiles' hungry ass. "Yes, Daddy!" Derek spanked his right cheek four times in quick succession, triggering more endorphins from the pain/pleasure of it all. Stiles let out an obscene moan as the door to the house opened. "Spank me, Daddy, please!"

Derek obliged, leaving a red blotch on Stiles' ass that he would feel later. Boots could be heard on the steps as the older boy reached around and started tugging on Stiles' erection. 

"You gonna come for me, baby?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah, Daddy," the words tumbled from Stiles' lips without hesitation. He pushed his face to the side to look over his shoulder again and met his father's blue eyes through the cracked open door. 

His orgasm ripped through him so hard that he blacked out. 

 

***

 

After Derek left through the window, Stiles hobbled on shaky legs to the shower and climbed in without preamble. Not a minute into his shower was the curtain yanked aside and the Sheriff was hauling him bodily out of the tub by his short hair. The grip in his hair made his spine bow and made him look straight into his father's eyes. 

"You will NEVER disrespect me like that again. Understand?" A vein pulsed at his father's temple and his face was tinged pink. 

"I don't know what it was exactly that you found disrespectful; the fact that I let a guy fuck me in the house when you were due to come home in the next few minutes or that I called him Daddy as I begged him to fuck me harder?"

The sheriff's other hand slapped Stiles' pale cheek causing his head to snap to the side and the hand that fisted in his hair to pull out a few strands in an effort to not let go. 

"I just want you to be happy and be a normal teenager, Stiles, but you seem hellbent on torturing and testing me the entire way. This is wrong and you need to stop. I can't put up with your behavior anymore. I won't put up with it."

"How can this be so wrong when it felt so right? When you were in me, I felt whole Dad. I was safe and I felt the best I've ever felt in my life. I only feel that way knowing that my Daddy is taking care of me." Stiles hesitated before lifting a hand to his father's face and stroking from jaw to temple, over the less prominent vein, and back again with his thumb. 

The hand in his hair slowly released and Stiles pulled his Dad into an embrace. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, kid." John held his son, still soaked and naked from his forcefully aborted shower, close and placed a kiss into his hair. "But I never want to see Derek Hale or any other man in my house, sodomizing my son again. I especially don't want to hear you calling anyone else Dad ever again. Got it?"

Stiles nodded and his father stepped back towards the door, "Good. Now get cleaned up. Dinner should be almost done by the time you get downstairs."

 

***

 

The next morning, John felt a weight shift on the other side of his bed and looked over to see Stiles sprawled on the other side of his bed. 

They had fought the night before so it made sense that he wanted comfort, and John let it go, getting up and dressed for his shift. Before leaving at 4:45, he made his way back up the stairs and kissed his son's forehead before leaving. 

 

***

 

John never said anything the following night when Stiles came to climb into John's bed again, lifting the duvet wordlessly and climbing in. 

Or the night after. 

Or the night after that. 

 

***

End

 

***


End file.
